A Day in the Life of the Sheriff of Nottingham
by Shade Salogel
Summary: Follow the many adventures and perils the Sheriff of Nottingham faces on a daily basis. Set in the universe of the Facebook app "Robin Hood".


A Day in the Life of the Sheriff of Nottingham

Disclaimer: This story is just for fun! I hope you enjoy it—any feedback is greatly appreciated. Please ask my permission if you want to use any of these ideas. This story was written to go with the Facebook application game of Robin Hood. If you haven't played Robin Hood, this story probably won't make sense.

Geoffrey, the Sheriff of Nottingham, stared at the embers of his home in tired disbelief. The outlaws in Sherwood were out of control. No matter how hard he worked or how many guards he posted, he could never prevent his home from being burned down at least four or five dozen times a day. It didn't seem to matter to the outlaws that his home now consisted a tent or a wooden framework. His wife had returned back to her parent's manor near London after the first day of burnings. She refused to come back until he dealt with the outlaws.

"They started early today" Clifton, the Captain of the Sheriff's Guard, walked over to stand beside Geoffrey. "When I woke up there were at least twenty involved in a fistfight outside deciding who got to spy through my window," the man murmured, looking at the pitiful smoking remains of the sheriff's latest attempt to rebuild his once beautiful house.

"When I find out whoever came up with the idea for the bands of outlaws to have a competition, I am going to personally hang them." Geoffrey said, sighing. Resolutely, he turned away and looked out over Nottingham. "What reports do you have for me?"

"Just the usual. The butcher, baker and tailor are all waiting to lodge more complaints. Their shops were raided, and they have nothing left, again. They want to know what you're going to do about it. From what I've heard, they're all claiming to be poor and the outlaws are feeding them. Oh, and the miller's sons were all kidnapped overnight again."

"Tell them that I'm doing everything I can." Geoffrey saw Clifton twitch violently and glanced around. There were no less than fifty outlaws, all intently staring at the captain of the guard. "Let's go inside. Not so many of them can watch you then."

As the two men walked through town to the castle, they could see some of the chaos that engulfed their town. Ever since someone had seen fit to issue a challenge to all of the outlaws in the world to outdo Robin Hood, Nottingham and Sherwood had exploded into insanity. The challenge was to build the biggest band possible of outlaws and complete a list of tasks. The problem was, with so many large bands in the forest, they were all often trying to do the same quest at the same time. Geoffrey was considering resigning as sheriff unless some solution could be found.

"The king's forester reported that on his patrol—rather, his daily chase by the outlaws—he covered most of Sherwood. More bands have arrived, and they are starting at the beginning of the quest list." Clifton managed to keep his voice steady as more and more outlaws drifted over to spy on him—he was dealing with this much better than the last three captains Geoffrey had hired.

"I suppose that means all those berry bushes we imported have been stripped again?"

"Yes, and there's not a pheasant left for twenty leagues." Clifton sighed in relief as they made it into the castle. There were still many bandits crowding the windows to spy on him, but not nearly as many as when he was outside. "Fortunately, many of the smaller bands are still doing their best to win fights and get some target practice in so they can win the knife throwing contest. All of the rivers have logs over them for the traditional fight over the water. A few bands have started robbing travelers on the road. I posted the usual notices at all of the roads, warning people."

Geoffrey nodded. "We ought to warn hunting parties as well- there's no use even attempting to hunt anything in that blasted forest. I don't see how the king has any deer left for anyone to poach. You would think that they would get tired of always hunting for their dinner, also."

Both men ignored the sudden sound of a melee outside the door—it was common enough that they never investigated anymore. Both were hoping that some of the outlaws would end up in Sherwood Memorial Hospital. The hospital staff were pushed to their limits, tending to the hundreds of wounded, but they had no choice. Any healers in the area were making a fortune, healing up the bandits so that they could go fight some more.

The door burst open, and Geoffrey's scribe came storming in. "I've had it! I quit! I have a line of those robbers waiting by my desk so that they can trick me into letting them forge notes from you!"

Flinging a handful of letters at the sheriff, the scribe turned and shook his fist at the bandits in the window. "There isn't any more paper or parchment for them to use in any case, but I am leaving this town and never coming back!"

Leaving Geoffrey and Clifton staring after him, the scribe went out, slamming the door behind him. "Well," Clifton said, shaking his head. "I suppose I'll go down to the market, shut down as many of the shell games as I can, and see if I can find another scribe for you."

The sheriff nodded. "Thank you, Captain. I'll do the rounds of the stables, armory, treasury and prison. Then I am going to do a headcount of the guards and try to get rid of all of the imposters."

As the two men left the castle and went their separate ways, Geoffrey glanced over his shoulder and grimaced. Now there were nearly a hundred outlaws following his captain. The man was doing his best to conceal nervous twitches.

The news from the stable master was unpleasant. "We have not a single horse left, sir. During the night we had dozens of raids—they took everything, even the donkeys and worthless old nags. I'll do my best to replace them, but I wouldn't hope for much."

"Just do the best that you can," Geoffrey said, and went on.

The armory had been stripped bare—not even a single link of chain mail remained. There were servants sweeping out the room, looking dazed. Geoffrey turned to the treasury, where his worst fears were realized. His steward was sitting just outside of the room, hyperventilating. After sending the steward off to the hospital in the care of several servants, Geoffrey left the door to the empty room open. He would rather not have to replace another door this week.

Inside the castle barracks, the sheriff ignored the Lincoln-green-clad bandits sneaking in the back window and assembled his guards. There were nearly two hundred extra guards, neatly dressed in their stolen uniforms. "All outlaws, there will be a hanging in five minutes in the village square—if you want to free your comrade, I suggest you go now."

Smirking at the mass exodus, Geoffrey turned to his remaining men. They were all looking a bit hunted—everywhere they went, outlaws harried them. "Do we have anyone left in the prison?"

"No, milord," the sergeant said, stepping forward. "They free the wizards almost faster than we can imprison them. They take turns getting arrested so that they can free their friends from jail. Not a single hanging has actually occurred since this nonsense began. They do, however, keep on delivering the bodies of traitors—apparently it's below them to actually have to bury the bodies."

"Very well," Geoffrey considered the small band of men. "Travel in groups. I need patrols to protect the merchant wagons, they're complaining again. Also, the cursed thieves are stealing wagons to smuggle stolen goods in. Any wagon you see, stop and search it. Warn any knights that want to leave town—they will be forcefully recruited if they leave. If you see any wizards around, send them away since we don't have any intact cells in the jail anymore. Be careful out there—there are more bands than ever."

The soldiers scattered to obey their orders, all keeping a tight grip on their weapons. Sighing deeply, the sheriff returned to the castle to deal with the long line of townspeople waiting to make complaints.

After two hours of fending off nobles and mercenaries whose money had been stolen in ambushes, complaints about the smoke from all the flaming arrows, and angry threats from the tax collectors who couldn't do their jobs, Geoffrey fled into his study. Thick stone walls muffled the sounds of the mob, and the man sank into his chair. Five minutes later, Clifton tumbled in, locking the door behind him.

"I don't think there's a single walnut left in the forest. I shut down hundreds of shell games, dumped all the homemade ale brews, and found a scribe for you. He's out there, trying to bring some order to this mess." Clifton dropped into a chair, after double-checking that there were no windows.

"Excellent. Thank you, Clifton." Geoffrey stared at the door, brooding.

"There's another message from King Richard—a young squire carrying an important missive made it through, although he was confronted several times and his bag was stolen. He had the foresight to hide the letter on his person. Anyway, the king sent word that he has five scribes all struggling to deal with the missives from all of the outlaw bands. He also wants us to do something about his brother. Prince John is getting ambushed every time he sets foot in his wagon."

"I don't see what the king expects us to do about all of this—we need the entire army to deal with all of the outlaw bands!" the captain said. "Oh, while I was in the market, I got quite a few pleas for help. All of the dukes in the area report that their armories are empty, and they have lines of people waiting to dupe them. The minstrels have all gone into hiding—Allen a Dale got tired of playing all the time and quit, so the outlaws have been finding anyone that can play a musical instrument so that they can dance."

Geoffrey rolled his eyes. "I know. And every single lady who might remotely be considered fair is being 'rescued'. The bands are passing them around so that they can all get their requirements in. Robin Hood sent me a message earlier—he's willing to join us in dealing with this disaster if we'll help keep Marian safe. They're all trying to rescue her from her own husband."

"Let's get out of here." Clifton said, as someone started banging on the door. "Avoid Wickham—they're recruiting from there. And we'll have to avoid any open fields. Since you refuse to hold any more archery tournaments, they're holding their own wherever there's an open area big enough. If we leave out the back way, we might make it out of here before anyone notices that we're gone."

The sheriff stared at him for a long moment, and then started smiling. He laughed, and nodded. "Yes. Let's leave. We'll go to London, pick up my wife, then get out of the country. Somewhere without outlaws or forests."

Geoffrey carefully took off his badge, and put it on the center of his desk. He wrote a quick letter for his resignation, left it under the badge, and nodded to Clifton. They left together, leaving Nottingham and Sherwood to deal with their own problems.


End file.
